And Things That Go Parp In The Night
by SaltedLily
Summary: [MWPP]"Something hobbled into the girls’ dorm, cursing mildly under its breath. It shuffled around, went PARP, yelped, and tumbled out the window. There was a dopplering scream and, from outside, the sound of amused male voices."
1. Prologue

****

And Things That Go "Parp, 'Aargh!!', Plooo, Crunchsplat" In The Night

__

Not so long ago, Hogwarts wasn't exactly what it is today. The Sorting Hat had fewer patches. The Whomping Willow was merely the Sort-Of-Condescending-Pat Willow. And Nearly-Headless Nick was fully-headed, and living in an apartment on 37 Daffodil Lane. And not so long ago, lived the Marauders, a group that would draw a permanent moustache and beard onto the face of magic.

Prologue

Professor McGonagall knew that her students did not consider her the _nicest_, or _youngest_, or most _charming_ professor. But she felt that she was a _good_ professor and a _fair _professor, and that she had done nothing in her thirty-eight years of life to merit having to deal with this sort of thing.

James Potter and Lily Evans, who were standing in front of her desk, looked guiltily at the floor. It was a wood floor. With knotholes. And dust. It wasn't a really interesting floor by any standards. (Not, reflected Lily, that there are actually standards that determine how interesting a floor is.) In unanimity, their heads turned to the ceiling. It was slightly more interesting, being a tiled pattern, but only just. 

Their movement caught McGonagall's attention, and she lifted her head from her hands. 

"Well?" she said, at length. "What do you have to say for yourselves? You first, Mr…Potter, I presume. Your brother has been looking for you. Is there anything that you would like to say?"

"That I didn't do it, it wasn't my fault, I'm very very sorry and I'll never do it again," quipped James, hopefully.

McGonagall sighed. "And you, young lady? Your name first, please."

"Uh, Lily Evans, ma'am. I—er—he said—but—that is—umm…" Lily fumbled, and paused. 

"Out with it."

"Was I…um… actually _supposed_ to walk… er… into the wall?"

Pause.

"Only…the blonde guy in the crooked place said that he would try, and I wasn't to… umm…" Lily trailed off, looking embarrassed. 

There was another pause. 

McGonagall cleared her throat. "Perhaps you had better explain to me what exactly happened."

"First off," began James, cheerfully. "We saved that entire village from a monster, then there was the bab—"

"From Ms. Evans please," interrupted McGonagall glaring.

James subsided, still grinning. 

__

Well, alright... narrated Lily. _I suppose I'd better start at the beginning. The letter that I got four weeks ago was troubling me. Y'know, bat wing, cauldrons, it was all sounded bloody stupid. Where on earth did they expect me to get things like that in London? But Grandmum read the letter and confirmed that it was perfectly legit. But… seriously! Witches and wizards!? It sounded like something out of a cheesy summer flick. _

James glared at her, and Lily hurried on.

__

Nevertheless, Nana and I went shopping, and we stopped for a drink in the kind of seedy looking pub that children everywhere always hope their elders NEVER EVER find out about. Then, we went through this sort of… thing that was a like a hole, 'cept that it wasn't really, with this stuff that you pressed and it sorta popped, but then it fizzed instead and you were suddenly somewhere else, but it was like you weren't supposed to be…and it was… um… well, I guess you can figure out what I mean.

"Very descriptive, Lils."

"I try," said Lily, modestly.

"Continue, please, Ms. Evans."

Anyway, so we suddenly ended up in… well, in the crooked place.

"Crooked place?"

"I can't remember what it was called… sort of like crooked, winding, or…bend—oh! Diagonal!"

"You mean _Diagon_ Alley?"

"Ah! Yes, that's it."

"Crooked place… hah!"

"Mr. Potter, please just let Ms. Evans tell the story. And Ms. Evans, _please_ get on with it."

__

Right, right. So okay, we were in Diagon Alley, and I went shopping for most of the stuff. Then I met this really cute blonde guy that said he was first year here too. I can't remember his name either, but seriously—oh! Right, his name was Sirius. Ah, well, he was Siriusly cute. 

"Hardee har har."

"Oh, shut up, Jamie."

__

So Sirius and I went shopping for the rest of the stuff while Nana sat with his mum at the ice cream place and chatted about old times. Then we met up with James here, who was Sirius' friend from magic pre-school the year before. That sounds like so much fun. I wish I could've gone to magic pre-school. But then, you can hardly take magical naps, can you? I wonder why Jamie and Sirius had to be in preschool until they were ten? You'd think they'd learn how to share and colour in the lines and stuff in the first year or so. But then it is Jamie and Sirius, so I g—

"It wasn't that kind of pre-school!!" protested James, turning red.

"Ms. Evans, _quickly _please."

__

Right, right. So then we were talking and shopping et cetera. And then James and Sirius set of a firework thing that wasn't hot, and…um… didn't need fire…? Well, whatever. We got to talking about their pranks and such and then it was James' turn to go in to be fitted for his robes. While he was in, Sirius told me about Hogwarts, and I asked how we got there. Sirius said it was nothing special, but he told me about this big prank that everyone tries to pull on the first year Muddle students. 

"Muggle."

"What?"

"Not *snicker* Muddle… Muggle."

__

Oops. Yeah, so Sirius said that he wasn't supposed to tell me, but since he was my friend he would. He said that on the first day, we'd all go to Kings Cross station, and there would be a lot of people who would come up to me and ask if I was a first-year Muggle for Hogwarts, and if I needed a hand. Then, they'd tell me that there was this silly platform called nine and a half or something like that.

"Nine and three quarters," said James, rolling his eyes. 

Lily dismissed him with an imperious wave of her hand. "It's not important what the fake number is." 

"YE—"

__

ANYWAY, then he said that people would tell me that it was some sort of magic spell thing, and try to get me to run into a wall. He said that he didn't want me to fall for it, because every year there was some poor chap that did, and it was terribly embarrassing. Well, then we finished shopping, and it was another three weeks 'till we had to go to Hogwarts. So I spent my time with my friend Carrey, and we did all sorts of fun stuff. I remember in particular that there was the one awesome beer advert that— 

"I think we can safely omit the next three weeks, Ms. Evans."

__

Er… okay. So then it was the big day. When I showed up at Kings Cross, it turned out Sirius was completely right. There were all sorts of people who tried to get me to run into the wall. But I said no, and stood as far away as possible, and waited for the real train. I guess it was late, because when James finally showed up at 11:15, it still wasn't there. He was all cranky, because he was late, but that didn't stop him. He tried to prank me too! But, of course, I had been forewarned, so I would not _run into that bloody wall, no matter how much he tried to get me to. Then he said he would prove to me that we _could_ go through the wall, and he…_

Pause. 

"If you're quite finished laughing, Ms. Evans, you could continue the story."

Another longer pause. 

"Anytime, Ms. Evans."

Yet another pause, longer still.

"Really, Ms. Evans, I don't imagine it's quite that funny!"

__

…he ran into the wall!!! Ah, it was lovely, and satisfying. His trolley folded up, and his books went everywhere, and people started giving him really strange looks. It was beautiful. You'd think he'd know better, being a pure wizard and all. 

"BUT I— " cried James, only to be interrupted by Lily. 

__

AS I WAS SAYING, after I helped him get all his books together, he completely freaked out, and said we would be killed if we weren't here in time to be Sorted. Since his parents had already left, we… um… 

"You boarded Mr. Potter's illegal broomstick and FLEW to Hogwarts!" finished McGonagall. 

"Yeah," said Lily, looking down again. "I didn't realise that we weren't supposed to be on a broomstick. I thought that was the kind of thing that witches did. By the light of the full moon and such."

James smiled innocently. "I honestly just wanted to help."

McGonagall put her head in her hands again, and sighed. She was a _good _person! Really! It just wasn't fair. 

"While I cannot fault either of you under the circumstances, since Ms. Evans clearly did not know any better, and you, Mr. Potter, were just trying to help, there will be no deduction of points _for that_. However, Mr. Potter, five points off your future house for possession of a broomstick by a first year, and ten points off… er, what is 'Sirius's' last name?"

Lily shrugged. 

"Purple," said James, smiling sweetly. 

He got a strange look from McGonagall. "Alright... er... ten points off Mr. Purple's future house for that tasteless prank."

"What prank?" asked Lily, light dawning in her eyes. She had not believed James about the barrier no matter how many times he had reiterated.

Lily was very quiet as McGongall explained. 

"Professor…" she asked, softly. "How many points would I lose for my house if I killed Sirius?"

"I did not hear that, Ms. Evans."

"Ri-ight…"

"Note, however, that I did _not_ suggest a _Dreyfuserge _curse, which _cannot_ be found on page 17 of your _Essential Guide to Essential Spells, Standard One_ by Miranda Mercer."

"Of course, Professor. Clearly you did nothing of the sort."

There was a pause. 

"Er… Professor?" said James. "Will we get sorted now? The Feast is over, isn't it?"

McGonagall looked down as the paper in her hands and shuddered ever so slightly. 

She _said: _"You'll be sorted at the next meal. But you'll be Gryffindor. Only Gryffindors would have _actually_ done the thing with the entire village and the monster."

But she _thought_: "Aww, bloody bloody hell, I'm _stuck _with them! Why don't things like this ever happen to, say, Professor Flitwick?"

And so, despite everyone's complaints and the three hundred signatures on a recently-circulating petition, it began…


	2. A Hat with Attitude

****

And Things That Go "Parp, 'Aaaaaaahhh!!', Plooo, Crunchsplat" In The Night

Not so long ago, Hogwarts wasn't exactly what it is today. The Sorting Hat had fewer patches. The Whomping Willow was merely the Sort-Of-Condescending-Pat Willow. And Nearly-Headless Nick was fully-headed, and living in an apartment on 37 Daffodil Lane. And not so long ago, lived the Marauders, a group that would draw a permanent moustache and beard onto the face of magic.

Chapter One

James and Lily were sitting on their trunks in the Great Hall. Lily was staring at the ceiling. This was because it was a lot more interesting than the ceiling in McGonagall's office.

"Why isn't there a roof?" she asked.

James looked up, uninterestedly. "There is; it's just enchanted to look like the sky."

"What a waste of magic."

"We-ell…" said James, reluctant to hear slander against the wizarding world. "It is nice looking, and useful for telling the weather without having to go outside. Plus, if they didn't have a roof, all the rain and snow and stuff would get inside."

He contemplated the ceiling again.

""Besides," he said, after a moment's thought. "there's no substance in the world that could be substituted. One that's transparent, but it still doesn't let the elements and the mosquitoes in."

"Erm… yes, there is."

"Of course there isn't; that would be physically impossible! It would contravene the Magical Methods Theorem of Eldritch Maxmin. I've studied these things!"

"Er… glass," said Lily.

"What?"

"Glass," Lily repeated. "You can see through it, but it's still a wall."

"What?" said James again.

"Y'know, you make windows and stuff out of it? And cups. And, er, the glasses that you're wearing."

There was a pause.

"I think it is due to the high altitude," said James, in the manner of someone reaching a highly important scientific conclusion. "Clearly the lack of oxygen has affected my brain, rendering me unable to partake in my usually witty and brilliant dialogue."

Lily smiled brightly. "Of course! Naturally! Right! The high altitude! Lack of oxygen! Exactly! I should have thought of that! That's what it was!"

"That was unnecessarily sarcastic," said James coldly.

Lily pondered this.

"We just had a conversation in which you tried to prove that it was impossible for glass to exist. I rather think I'm entitled."

James blinked, but seemed to the see the sense in this. "Er… yeah, okay. Fair enough."

--

"Well, it seems we have some newcomers!" said Dumbledore cheerfully, beaming at the assembled students as if the House banners behind him _hadn't_ been replaced by the waving and winking pictures of Misses March, June, July, and September off the most recent Swimsuit Veelas calendar (though, they were not talking pictures, because no one bought the Swimsuit Veelas calendar for the witty repartee and oh so stimulating debate. Oh so stimulating something, perhaps, but not debate).

There were a few sniggers as the veela who had replaced the Ravenclaw banner bent down, and held two fingers behind Dumbledore's distinguished head, giving him bunny ears.

Dumbledore ignored this.

The Charms Professor, Flitwick, got rid of the veelas with a flip of his wand, producing disappointed grumbles from most of the senior male population.

At the Gryffindor table, Sirius shook his head disappointedly, and leaned over to his new grey-eyed friend.

"I can do Transfiguration, y'see," he whispered. "But I suck at Charms. Pity, that. I think July liked me."

The other boy, who was pale and currently looked very nervous, said: "You don't think they'll find out who it was, do you? Only, it's my first day, and I don't want to get into trouble."

"Don't worry so much, Remus, my good chap!" Sirius grinned.

This made Remus even more nervous. He remembered when he had first been bitten by the werewolf, and had been sent off to stay with a werewolf clan to learn how to deal with it. They had had a name for that particular type of grin. It was called the "You Know That I'm Going To Kill You Eventually, And I Know That I'm Going To Kill You Eventually, But For Now, I'll Give You A Five Minute Head Start While I Sharpen My Teeth On Your Deceased Friend Here" Grin.

It was a bit hard to translate into words. It worked better as a spine-chilling growl. (Remus had never liked this lifestyle. He was a vegetarian. Urges to gorge himself on bloody carcasses every month made this difficult. So far, he was proud to say that he had never killed anything, mostly because he was too slow to catch it, but perhaps maybe a little bit because his human side was winning. Sort of. Maybe. Hey, it's possible, okay!?!)

At the front of the Great Hall, the Sorting Hat was being brought out again. They set it on the traditional stool, and it burst into song.

Well, there's Gryffindor and Hufflepuff

And Ravenclaw toooo!!

Oh, and Slytherin, right, I forgot!

Er… and I get to choose which one you're in!!

So be nice to meeee!!

And, um… Yeah!

There was a stunned silence.

"Well, what'dya expect?" said the Hat, in its defence. "I thought I was going to get a whole year to come up with another song! It's not like it's that easy, you know!"

Dumbledore coughed politely. "I think we'll just have you sort Mr. Potter and Ms. Evans now, if you don't mind. They missed this afternoon's feast."

"Oh, alright," said the Hat, grumpily. It didn't hold with this kind of thing.

McGonagall picked up her scroll. It had two names on it.

"Er… Evans, Lily," she said, feeling quite foolish.

Lily walked up, and the Hat was placed on her head.

"I want to be in Gryffindor," she told it mentally.

"Everybody coming up with nothing but demands these days!" muttered the Hat, tetchily. "If you think you know where you should be, why don't you try being the Sorting Hat, eh?"

"That wouldn't work at all," Lily countered.

"Yeah, 'cause I have, like, the brains of all the Founders in me, and hundreds of years of experience n' all."

"No, because I could never sit on all those people's heads."

"Hah!" said the Hat. "Not Ravenclaw then!"

"I could be in Ravenclaw if I wanted! I _am_ smart enough."

"You could be in Slytherin; all the nasty ones are in there."

"Muggle-born. James said they'd slaughter me."

"Oh, fine, fine, then. I guess you'll be in Hufflepuff then."

"NO!! Gryffindor!"

"Aww, but I do so want to put you in Hufflepuff."

"Look, you can't go putting people in the wrong houses just because you don't like them."

"I _could_, you know. If I _wanted_ to. I _am_ the Sorting Hat."

Sirius yawned very very obviously. "Get on with it already!!" he said, loudly.

Lily turned red. "If you don't put me in Gryffindor right now, I will tear you off my head and stomp on you."

"Finefineit'sGRYFFINDOR!" The Hat said, very quickly.

"FINALLY!" called Sirius, above the applause from the Gryffindor table.

McGonagall glared at him. She glanced perfunctorily at her scroll. "Potter, James."

James bounded up to the Hat and picked it up.

"GRYFFINDOR!" It yelled immediately. For a hat, it had very good self-preservation instincts.

James grinned sheepishly, and walked over to sit beside Lily and Sirius. There was more applause.

Sirius glared very sternly at the two of them. "I'm very hungry!" he said. "You've been keeping a growing boy from his food!"

James automatically reached over and shoved a drumstick in Sirius' mouth. This was a common occurrence, it seemed.

Beside them, Remus and Lily had introduced themselves, and were having a quiet conversation over their first impressions of the school, both having come from Muggle families. James could hear only fragments of their conversation above Sirius' ramblings about "food, food, glorious food. My first love after the July veela!".

Suddenly, Professor McGonagall was towering over them.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. I see we can take five points off Gryffindor. And I assume this is your friend, Mr. Purple?"

Sirius choked on a forkful of Shepard's Pie. "_WHAT?!_"

"Yes," said James, looking innocent. "Yes. This is Sirius Purple."

Sirius looked as if he wanted to protest vehemently. He was cut off by the unfortunate fact that he seemed to be choking.

McGonagall waved her wand to relieve him, and said: "Well, Mr. Purple, that will be a further ten points off Gryffindor. Which, I believe is the first time that a Hogwarts house have ever reached the negative points." She walked away.

Sirius and James looked at each other for a moment, grinned, and high-fived.

"Oh, we're _good_," said Sirius.

"We're very _very_ good," said James.

"Or very very bad," said Remus, "depending on where you're sitting."

"We're sitting right here!" protested James.

"It was a figure of speech. I'm Remus Lupin, by the way."

"James Potter. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

"What kind of figure…?" asked Sirius, warily.

"Er… what?" asked Remus.

"Speech," he said. "What kind of figure does it have?"

"I… don't know. I've never, um, thought to ask."

"Because if it's anything like Miss July's…"

"I don't think that's quite how it works—"

"Besides, can we see this _figure_ from where we're sitting?" asked James.

"Um, what?"

"The figure of speech depends on where you're sitting. You said so just a minute ago!"

"I didn't mean—"

"Maybe we should move?" suggested Sirius. "If we're not sitting in the appropriate place to catch the figure?"

"I—"

"You never said, is it a _good_ figure? 'Cause I wouldn't want to move just to look at some old crone."

Remus stared at the earnest faces of James and Sirius, who, having been brought up in the wizard world, were not familiar with Muggle colloquialisms. Then he looked at Lily, who was doing a very poor job of hiding her laughter behind her hands.

"Well?" said James. "Is it a good figure? And where should we sit?"

"When will it get here, anyway?" asked Sirius.

"What?" muttered Remus, staring vaguely at his mashed potatoes.

"The figure of speech, obviously!"

Remus mulled over all possible courses of action, and resorted to the one that would eventually come to be the favourite of Gryffindors everywhere.

He smacked them both upside the head.

"Ow!"

"What was that for?!"

"Aww, hell, that _hurt_!"

"Look! I'm bleeding!"

"No, James, that's your hair gel."

"Since when is my hair gel red and sparkly?"

"Since you told McGonagall my name's 'Sirius Purple'."

"Ohhh. Revenge, was it?"

"Yep."

"Well, that's alright then."

The sound of good-natured bickering faded into the night.


End file.
